I had a dream we were going for a walk in the park
because that is what he enjoyed doing.
I don’t know if that is really true.
He might have hated walking. 

They wanted me to come on the walk.
Mother, my niece, my nephews.
The kids saw it as a nice trip out.
Everyone easy-going.
I was not part of any of their experiences,
caught somewhere between being a
sibling and a stranger.
He mattered too much and not enough.
Here and not.
Known and not.
Mine and not. 

I didn’t want to go on the walk,
or be with any of them
so while they got ready
I stood in the kitchen for ages
leaning on the countertop,
eyes glazed over, my blank stares
making the refrigerator feel uncomfortable.
Mother just laughed at me and asked
why I stood there for so long.